


A Bridge Too Far

by echoes_of_another_life



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_another_life/pseuds/echoes_of_another_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set toward the end of ‘Mortal’, a brief scene before Clark told Lana he’d 'just said goodbye to an old friend'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bridge Too Far

Lex closed his eyes as he heard the door to the mansion slam shut, sending shock waves through the otherwise quiet corridors of his so called home and,for the first time since arriving in Smallville, he felt truly alone. He wiped the back of his hand across his face and opened his eyes to stare down at the blood which stained his knuckles, unsure whether it belonged to him or Clark. 

Clark… 

Lex sighed as he slipped his hand inside his trouser pocket for a handkerchief, changed his mind, smudged the remaining evidence of his fight with Clark across the cuff of his expensive shirt and walked over to the bar. He yanked out the stopper from the decanter and smiled ruefully as he poured himself a strong measure of Scotch. Only Clark would dare storm out of Lex’s presence with such arrogance and disregard, something he inherited from his father. Okay, maybe his own father would too but then Lionel had more class than to show his anger with actions as petulant as slamming a door, no,that was the action of a certain fractious teenager, one who never looked at Lex and saw the stamp of Lionel Luthor. 

One who never thought to knock before entering his study, never hesitated to interrupt his daily routine, never hesitated to touch him, whose touch never conveyed fear or mistrust. 

One who never thought of him as a Luthor… until today. 

Until he had given him just cause. 

He lifted the glass and ignoring the sting as the alcohol slipped past the slight cut on the inside of his lip, swallowed its contents in one mouthful,relishing the burn as it hit the back of his throat and almost drowned out the words that echoed in his head. 

You'll never know when it will happen, but it will happen. Each swallow of wine you take, every key you turn, every... friend you make. You'll never have another moment's peace. 

Lex poured another drink and wondered what Lionel would think now, would he be proud that Lex had finally proved himself a Luthor. Or would he gloat because the one friend Lex truly valued had been the one person capable of shattering the only peace that Lex had ever managed to carve out for himself. 

Friendship. Clark’s friendship. 

Would Lionel be satisfied now? 

Lex swirled the amber liquid in its glass and gritted his teeth against the remembered vision of Clark’s face as he’d hit him, the blood, which stained his mouth no different to that which stained his shirt sleeve. He closed his eyes against the hurt look on Clark’s face, the disbelief in his voice… 

Satisfied? 

Lex hadn’t been satisfied in a long time, not since the moment he’d been jolted back to reality by his voice, his words… 

Come on! Don't die on me! 

Not since the moment he’d registered more than his voice, heard the sound of water somewhere close by, felt the tremble in the fingers which clung to his cold, wet skin beneath his clothing, remembered the shock of dark hair, the look of panic in his eyes seconds before he lost control of the car and… 

Nothing. Nothing until he’d opened his eyes on the riverbank and looked up into a pair of hazel eyes that looked back at him with fear but not because he was a Luthor, not fear of him but fear for him. 

And something else, something it had taken Lex more than a few seconds to recognise… honesty. Honesty and openness that Lex had never had the fortune to look upon, not since his mother… until reality hit. 

I could have sworn I hit you. 

Just like he had not an hour ago and watched the same shutters come down, saw the openness replaced with a guarded look that reminded him that he wasn’t to be trusted, he was a Luthor. 

~*~ 

Clark was standing at Loeb Bridge before he realised he had no idea where he was going, or why he’d ended up overlooking the river. There was a time he could have gone to Pete, would have gone to Pete but that time had come and gone, lost among the numerous lies and cover stories that had driven Pete away. 

He could have gone to Lex, except now those same lies had turned Lex against him just has they had Pete. Clark didn’t fool himself; Pete’s leaving was as much about getting away from Clark and his secret as it was about protecting Clark. 

Nor did he fool himself that hiding who he was from Lex was as much about protecting himself as it was Lex. 

Clark never saw Lex as a Luthor but nor did he ever forget, not for a single moment that behind the exclusivity of Lex’s smile, okay maybe he did sometimes forget. Especially those times when Lex’s face softened and his shoulders lost their usual stiffness, when he stretched his legs before him, unhidden beneath the glass surface of his desk. When he stretched his arms, lazily to graze the back of his neck and watch Clark, his gaze never wavering from Clark’s face, his mouth curving slightly upwards, patient and intent on every word Clark spoke, listening to Clark as if he was the one person worthy enough to have access to Lex’s ear. 

Watching Clark as if he was the one person, the only person that mattered. 

Those were the moments that made Clark forget that Lex was a Luthor. Those were the moments that made Clark forget everything. 

Just for a moment, until Lex moved, shifted in his chair and pushed himself to his feet and just watched Clark as he moved closer, keeping him rooted to the spot by the sheer intensity of his gaze, closer still to bridge the gap between them… 

Like a mighty warrior rising from his dais with a laser-like focus, intent on one thing, one person. Those were the moments that Clark remembered exactly who Lex was. 

And when he didn’t, he could always rely on Jonathan to remind him. 

Perhaps his father had been right, perhaps Lex was his father’s son or perhaps, just maybe the truth that drove Pete away was the lie that finally broke the one person he should have told the truth. 

But it was too late for that now, too late for truths and long past the time for lies, it was just too late. 

He thought about calling Lana and almost turned around to do just that but his feet faltered, He couldn’t just show up on her doorstep, tired, afraid and bloodstained but he wanted to, needed to. Lana wouldn’t turn him away, not now, not when they were so close. No, she’d hold him, comfort him, and make everything all right and he could pretend, for a moment at least, that it wasn’t just another lie. 

Clark closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, tasted his own blood, and wondered whether things would ever be all right again. 

It wasn’t like he and Lex had never fought before, they had and fought hard but not like this. Not with so much finality, so much hurt, on both sides. 

This time things were different, this time Clark new that when the madness was over there would be no apologies, no lingering looks of, what… regret? 

Clark shoved his hands into his pockets, he didn’t want to see whether or not they were stained with the same blood he knew covered his shirt, he knew they were, they had been since the day he had pulled Lex from the river. From the moment, he’d turned his head, hesitantly to look over at the bridge and the mangled, broken railing, just as he did now, only now the railing looked normal, no signs of damage, nothing to say it had ever been broken. 

Just like Clark himself but Clark knew otherwise. 

Knew the moment he’d walked down the steps to the storm cellar with his father and saw for the first time the one thing that would always stand as a reminder, the one thing that would always come between Lex and himself. 

The truth. 

Clark turned his face away from the railing, closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to shut out the world, shut out everything and everyone, he needed to be alone, needed to be where he didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to lie. 

Didn’t have to take comfort in someone else’s arms because he couldn’t ask for comfort from the one person who would have offered it freely, offered it wholly, exclusively just like he did everything else, for his friend… for Clark. 

Clark swallowed past the regret, the loss, opened his eyes to the never-ending destructive force of countless lies and did what he always did when things became too much, he retreated. He turned his back on the bridge and began the long walk home alone, sure in the knowledge that he may have pulled Lex from the river’s cold grasp but he certainly hadn’t saved him. 

~*~ 

Lex turned turn the key in the ignition and listened as the engine became quiet and the car stilled, his fingers still gripping the steering as wheel he closed his eyes and let his head rest on the back of his seat. He didn’t even know why he’d come here, it wasn’t like there was anything left to salvage. It was over, had been over for a while. Still he knew that wouldn’t prevent Clark from coming back, an apology dying on his lips in place of a favour that only Lex could help with, and not because they were friends, certainly not confidantes but because he couldn’t let go. 

Just as Lex couldn’t let go. 

“Jesus, if only my father could see me now,” Lex mumbled in to the quiet confines of his car as he leaned back further, gritted his teeth keeping his eyes tight shut unwilling to look in the direction of the barn. 

You have a destiny, Lex. You're never going to get anywhere with your eyes closed. 

“Fuck you, old man,” Lex ground out as he reached for the door handle and yanked it, hard. 

~*~ 

Clark knew he was there without even looking, knew before he’d even entered the barn, reached for the railing and taken the first step on the stairs which led up to the loft. Even without his powers, he knew, even before Lex spoke his name… 

“Clark?” 

“What do you want Lex? Wait, don’t tell me! You’ve just dropped by to see if my parents are okay, see if there’s anything you can do to help,” Clark asked without turning around. He couldn’t turn around, couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the evidence of his anger as a bruise on Lex’s face. Didn’t want Lex to see the anger, which still lingered and warred with the relief that at least Lex was here, even if it was just for this one moment. 

“Clark, don’t…” 

“Don’t what Lex?” Clark spun around to face Lex and wished he hadn’t when he saw the bloodstained shirt, which Lex hadn’t even bothered to change, hadn’t bothered… or hadn’t thought to. Saw the tinge of a bruise just to the left of his nose, the faint smudge of red across his cheek… 

“Lex?” 

“What? You’re sorry! Spare me any intended apologies Clark. You know, you’ve never apologised to me before so do me a favour, don’t start now.” Lex took the last step that brought him into the loft and, face to face with Clark, he attempted to straighten his jacket, realised he was still wearing the bloodstained clothes from earlier and cursed under his breath. He faltered as confusion warred with anger, anger at himself for not being prepared,for needing to see Clark, for allowing his need to see Clark cloud his usual judgement, his routine. Not once had he ever attended an important meeting without being impeccably dressed, but then he’d never attended a meeting quite as important as this one. 

“Apologise to you? Lex you almost killed my parents and Lana, and for what? So you could feel better about yourself?” 

“Don’t blame this on me Clark, I’m not the one who’s lied their way through this friendship,” Lex warned. He shivered slightly, wished for the second time that night that he’d brought a jacket. Funny, he’d never remembered the Kent barn being so cold before. 

“And that’s the problem Lex. I lied, I know there are things I haven’t told you, shared with you and maybe that’s my problem. But you know what Lex? Not every problem needs to be shared but you insist, and you push and you make demands that I share everything about myself with you and why? Why is that Lex? So you can feel secure about out friendship?” 

“Clark, wait…” Lex stepped forward, attempted to bridge the small space between them, which was suddenly widening to resemble the size of Shuster’s Gorge. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it was… 

“No Lex,” Clark began. He swallowed, averted his gaze to look out the window at the darkening sky. 

“Clark?” For one brief moment Lex thought that Clark was going to… what? Cry, which was ridiculous right, what did Clark have to cry about, he was the one who was being lied to, had been lied to, right from the beginning. 

Lex took a deep breath, then a step forward, and another; he reached out, slowly, and placed one hand on Clark’s shoulder, “Clark?” 

“I’m not some sort of new and improved drug to boost your ego Lex, something to make you feel good about yourself… I’m just trying to be your friend,” Clark whispered. Clark kept his gaze fixed on the night sky, his body stiff to Lex’s touch despite the need to sink into the warmth of Lex’s company, to take comfort in his presence like he’d wanted to so many times before. 

Lex heard the tone in Clark’s voice and stiffened, released his grip on Clark’s shoulder and winced; he’d heard that tone before, there was nothing like Kent superiority to remind a person that they weren’t good enough. 

Jonathan had taught Clark well. 

“Friends Clark?” Lex asked through gritted teeth as Clark finally turned to face him. 

“Well, let me tell you a few things about being friends. Or more precisely, how to fuck up a friendship using the time honoured technique of lying to your so-called friends. That’s got be easier than being honest, right?” 

Clark frowned, opened his mouth to defend himself but Lex interrupted. 

“Plus, if you’re really lucky and your so-called friend, the person you’re constantly lying to just happens to be the son of Lionel Luthor you get the added bonus of the town’s sympathy, which allows you to ignore your friends feelings and wallow in your self-pitying martyr complex,” Lex spat. 

“That’s not,” Clark began. 

“Oh, and don’t forget Clark, to really fuck up and maximise the drama, make sure you’re always seen as the victim when all you were trying to do was rescue your friend from what Clark? From who? Himself? Yeah, don’t forget that, that way you can avoid taking a good, honest look at yourself and your own actions. But then honesty is not that high on your list of priorities, is it Clark?” 

“Lex please…” 

“Please what?” Lex asked. He moved closer, took back the space that separated them and glared at Clark. 

“Please what, Clark? You want me to lie, tell you I understand play the hypocrite for you, is that it?” 

“No,” Clark swallowed as he tried to ignore just how close Lex was, tried to avert his gaze from the bruises, the dried blood that stained Lex’s face. The same blood that Clark had overlooked, no, refused to wash from his own hands… because he was afraid that mere soap and water could never remove its trace. 

Lex watched as Clark looked away, something he always did when Lex came close to the truth, and mistook Clark’s actions for just another deception. 

“How about I lie by omission then, so much easier don’t you think Clark? Not only is it easier and more palatable but it’s also pretty passive aggressive to boot. I could wrap up the lies in all manner of pretty things, such as, let’s see… how about that I was being dishonest with you because I didn’t think you could deal with the reality of the truth. How’s that Clark, does that work for you? Wouldn’t that be a wonderful self-fulfilling scenario?” 

Lex watched Clark stiffen and laughed without humour. 

“That way you can pretend that the reason I’m mad as hell at you has nothing to do with your behaviour towards me, but as something you knew would happen if the truth ever came out, and not because of something you caused. Is that what you want, Clark?” Lex breathed. 

“Well is it?” he spat, as Clark remained silent and refused to look at him. 

“No,” Clark whispered. 

“Then what? What is it you do want?” Lex asked all anger spent. 

For my birth not to have brought death to Smallville, for Lana not to have to visit her parents in the cemetery, for you not to have been in Reilly Field the day the spaceship brought me here, for Smallville not to be the meteor capital of the world… 

To be human. Clark thought. 

Clark took a deep breath, looked at Lex briefly, caught the confusion in his stare, the compassion despite his earlier words and steeled himself, wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, took another breath and opened his mouth to tell Lex everything. 

“I… Lex, I…” Clark faltered. 

“What Clark, just tell me…” Lex lifted his hand, took hold of Clark’s arm, squeezed it gently in encouragement as he looked up into Clark’s downward gaze, almost pleading with him to look up, to look at him, really look. 

“Nothing,” Clark mumbled. 

“It’s nothing.” 

Lex closed his eyes and swallowed the disappointment, the pain. He moved, just a fraction, just enough to bring their bodies flush against each other as the hand that gripped Clark’s arm tightened momentarily before he finally relaxed and felt Clark lean in to his embrace. 

Lex wrapped both his arms around Clark’s back to pull him close, it was strange but Lex never thought of Clark as soft before, he always seemed so strong but not now, somehow this was different, Clark was different. Lex lifted his chin and rested his cheek against the warmth of Clark’s, breathed in the scent of his shampoo and the lingering trace of Martha’s fabric softener. No fancy soaps, no expensive cologne, just Clark. 

His Clark… 

Only he wasn’t, not really. 

“Lex?” Clark whispered as he shifted closer to return Lex’s embrace, lifted his arms to curl them around Lex’s shoulders. 

Lex held on to Clark’s warmth, the softness of Clark’s hair against his cheek, the caress of Clark’s hands as they moved slowly along his back, just held on for what seemed like forever to the memory of this moment, when nothing and no one could come between them, except the one thing Clark was unwilling to give. 

Lex sighed, held Clark tighter to the point of pain, pulled his head back slightly but not enough to break the contact and in that moment he had everything, almost.

“I guess there are some things that even a Luthor isn’t privileged to own,” Lex said quietly against Clark’s ear, he pressed his lips to Clark’s cheek, just briefly and whispered, 

“Goodbye Clark.” 

Lex eased away from Clark slowly, reluctantly, unwilling to leave the comfort, the warmth Clark’s presence always seemed to bring, he kept his head down, eyes lowered as he turned to leave. He didn’t want to; he wanted to stay here, with Clark forever, just the two them together, safe in Clark’s Fortress of Solitude but he couldn’t because this was Clark’s solitary place, the place where Clark came to be alone, with his secrets. 

He didn’t belong here, had never belonged here. 

Lex looked around the barn; it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just a regular old barn full of farm equipment, old furniture and the odd cobweb, it was nothing special, certainly not a fortified defensive structure by any means, except to Clark. 

“You don’t need a fortress to keep out your enemies Clark,” Lex whispered as he turned his back and made to leave. 

“You do a pretty good job of that all on your own.” 

It wasn’t Lex’s words that made Clark finally move, it wasn’t that he suddenly felt cold or even that his arms suddenly felt empty, it was the silence that followed, silence that echoed around the barn and carried with it a feeling of stunned bewilderment and dread. 

Lex was leaving. 

“Lex, don’t…” Clark reached out, only to stumble and grab at nothing but air as Lex carried on walking, 

“Lex…” Clark hurried forward, tried to cut Lex off at the stairs as he pushed in front of him to bar his way. 

“Lex, please,” Clark pleaded. 

“Get out of my way Clark.” Lex didn’t look up, never once looked at Clark, he’d heard the pain in his voice, he certainly didn’t want to see if it reflected on his face. A man could only take so much and Lex figured he’d taken more than enough for one lifetime. But this was Clark and he never could say no, not to him, never to him. He dared a glance, just briefly and immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw the look of panic and fear, something he couldn’t remember ever seeing before. 

Clark wasn’t afraid of anything. 

Lex almost held out his hand to reassure Clark, almost, until he remembered that that sort of thing was a little too indulgent for a Luthor. Besides, he didn’t have the energy, not anymore, he shouldn’t have come, he should have stayed at the mansion and drank himself stupid. He should have… Lex sighed, he had no time for regret, regret was for the weak as Lionel so often reminded him. It was good for nothing, an appalling waste of energy. No it was much better to embrace the pain like an old friend, embrace it, and burn it as fuel for the long journey ahead as he demolished yet another bridge behind him. 

He tried to push past Clark, tried to sidestep him when he didn’t move, tried to ignore the grip on his arm as it tightened. 

He was leaving, Lex was really leaving, and not just for a few hours, or day or two but forever, he was walking out the door and never coming back, not as the Lex Clark knew, not as his friend. Clark swallowed past the fear, he’d always thought he knew what it meant to be alone but nothing could have prepared him for the sudden feeling of panic that seemed to dominate the barn making it appear smaller somehow, making it seem less of a haven and more like a prison with walls and … he couldn’t breathe… 

Clark reached for Lex, clutched at his arm, tried to find the words that would stop him leaving but they couldn’t claw their way past the fear that had lodged in his throat, past the numerous warnings about responsibility, sacrifices, and lines that can never be crossed. But he couldn’t just let Lex leave, not like this, not like… 

Clark wasn’t sure what he had meant to do, stop Lex from leaving, from looking at Clark like he was the enemy, stop the feeling of panic that was crushing his chest, something, anything just to make everything stop so he could breathe again. 

And he did, breathe again, a deep ragged breath that almost made him dizzy. There was a way to control this sort of thing, something about placing one hand on his chest and another on his stomach, only he couldn’t do that, not right now because there wasn’t enough distance between him and Lex for his hand to fit between them. And Lex wasn’t leaving anymore, he wasn’t moving at all, he was just standing there, looking at Clark, okay so the look of hurt was still there but there was something else too, confusion and… 

Clark breathed in slowly and tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t have Lex heading straight for the door but he couldn’t think right now, he could only… he wasn’t sure who moved first but it didn’t matter as hands clutched and mouths meshed and all words suddenly seemed futile. 

Clark stepped back as Lex took a step forward, then another forcing Clark to move with him as Lex’s hand gripped Clark’s hip tightly the other tangling in his hair, almost painfully. Clark groaned, the sound almost lost as he felt the tip of Lex’s tongue touch his bottom lip, gently at first and then more forceful as Lex inched forward again and bit down hard on the soft sensitive skin of Clark’s lower lip. 

Clark cried out in pain as Lex tugged hard on his hair, forcing Clark’s head back, he opened his eyes to stare intently at Lex and saw the warning look, Lex’s purpose evident seconds before he felt himself crushed into the wall behind him. 

Clark moaned as Lex shifted his hips, leaned closer and tugged harder on Clark’s hair, forcing his head down further to taste the inside of his mouth with his tongue, it was all the invitation Clark needed. Clark slid his hands around Lex’s back, felt the muscles bunch beneath his searching fingers as he flicked his tongue against Lex’s and ignored the pain as the cut on his lip began to sting. Nothing mattered, not today, not tomorrow, just this,Clark thought as he massaged his fingers, hard against the curve of Lex’s buttocks, forcing him closer and sucked hard on his bottom lip. 

Lex gave in to the warmth of Clark’s body, he wasn’t expecting this, he wasn’t sure what to expect, more anger perhaps, another rejection, but not this. Clark was his friend, his only friend but somewhere, somehow that had all changed and friendship had given way to something else, something hostile that Lex was loathe to give a name to. But not now, not tonight, tonight Clark was acceptance, and warmth and he wanted this, Lex could feel it in the response to his kiss, feel it in every stroke of Clark’s body as it moved against his own, he could feel every inch of Clark’s need as it throbbed against his hip. He could taste Clark’s want, his need and something else; it was more than friendship, more than sex… he could taste truth and honesty that tainted his own pleasure and shrouded it in pain. 

“Clark…” Lex breathed. He pushed hard against Clark’s mouth, hunger over taking everything, he needed this, needed Clark, his warmth, his comfort, needed it so badly that he was almost ready to forget the lies, the betrayal. And he wanted to forget, wanted Clark’s hands on his skin, his taste in his mouth, he wanted to cover every inch of Clark and taste his sweat as Clark bucked beneath him cried out his name. His name! Lex, he wanted to hear it, wanted to force the words from Clark’s lips as he poured himself into his welcoming warmth and watch his face when he tore the barriers down. He wanted to see that look of guarded fear torn away as Clark opened to him fully and gave him everything; all the things Lex knew Clark kept hidden. He wanted it all. 

Lex pulled the fabric of Clark’s shirt roughly, yanking it free from the confines of his jeans, pulled on the button to gain better access and felt soft hair against his hand as he slid it past the barrier of denim. 

“Lex…” Clark moaned, his voice unrecognisable to his own ears as Lex gripped his hip almost to the point of pain and pushed hard against him, his own fingers dug hard into the muscles of Lex’s ass, pulling him closer to gain better access. 

Lex pulled back, a ragged breath escaping his lips as Clark lifted into his searching hand and began to move; thrusting up into Lex’s clenched fingers as they gripped him tight. He twisted the fingers of his free hand in to Clark’s hair and held him close as Clark began to shift his hips thrusting forward with fast sure strokes as Lex kept him pinned hard to wall. He brushed his fingers lightly against Clark’s jaw and down his neck to tangle in the fine hairs at his nape, leaned in close and slid his tongue along Clark’s exposed collarbone. 

“Tell me, Clark…” Lex whispered against his neck. 

The words echoed through the barn despite their softness and wrapped Clark in heat, he groaned, lifted his hips as his cock twitched against Lex’s hand, he wanted something, needed to get closer, to… 

“Tell me the truth,” Lex urged as he fisted Clark’s cock slowly and scraped his teeth along the sensitive skin of Clark’s throat. 

The truth. Clark didn’t know what the truth was anymore, he didn’t care, he just wanted this moment, tonight, not yesterday, not tomorrow but now. He wanted to feel Lex’s breath against his skin, the heat of his mouth, the touch of his hands. He wanted to feel close, to feel wanted… to feel human. 

Only the truth was he wasn’t human, despite Jor-El taking his powers, he still wasn’t the person everyone thought him to be. He’d never truly be plain old Clark Kent. 

Clark hesitated, stood motionless for a second and tried to control the ache that only moments ago he craved, the same ache that was slowly beginning to gnaw at his conscience and lick at his exposed skin like a flame. He pulled away from Lex, looked at him for a second and noted his swollen lips, his flushed cheeks, the torn shirt that was stained with his own blood and the anger that was slowly giving way to pain. He closed his eyes, turned his head as he pulled at his jeans and winced in pain as he bit down on his lower lip catching the cut he had almost forgotten. 

“Lex, I… Lex please…” 

But Lex had already turned away. Clark watched Lex’s shoulders slump, his head lower, noted the heaviness of Lex’s footfalls as he walked slowly over to the stair railing and leaned against it. 

“It’s not that you lied Clark, it’s that you lied to me,” Lex sighed. 

Clark knew Lex was fighting for control, it was over and Lex was going to leave and this time there was nothing Clark could do to stop him. 

“Lex, please. You have to trust that I wanted so much to tell you, to show you but…” 

“But what Clark?” Lex turned around, all emotion gone from his face but he couldn’t hide the bruises that reminded Clark of the real reason Lex was here tonight. The real reason they were both here tonight, standing at the edge of the circle that had supported their friendship for so long, one or both of them about to take the first step over the invisible line. 

“I could have made you tell me the truth,” Lex said. He watched as Clark struggled to button his jeans and shook his head in mock humour. 

“But I wanted you to give it freely, so don’t talk to me about trust Clark.” 

Clark lowered his eyes, fumbled with his jeans, anything to avoid looking at Lex. 

“A wise man once said that when we walk to the edge of all the light we have and take a step into the darkness of the unknown, we must believe that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid for us to stand on or we will be taught to fly,” Lex stated. 

Clark looked up to meet Lex’s piercing stare and frowned as Lex looked back and held his gaze. 

“Can you fly Clark?” Lex asked. 

Clark remained silent as Lex raised one eyebrow in question, held Clark’s gaze without smiling, and then turned and walked down the steps without a backward glance.


End file.
